Lynda Plante - The Talisman

He laughed, ran his hands through his long hair, and she noticed he wore a gold bracelet. He seemed at ease with her, as if they had seen each other only a few days previously. ‘I’ve got some more projects for you to take over, in Mexico, couple of hotels... and I may have a deal for you. What do you think of shipping your fabrics back to Japan? Be a lot of money in it, and they are very interested... You free for lunch?’

Ming was impressed, Edward’s ability for making contacts never ceased to amaze her. The Japanese project was, as he had said, worth a fortune.

Having made the introductions at lunch, Edward left Ming with the four Japanese buyers to negotiate the contracts. On his way out he let his hand rest just a moment too long on the nape of her neck. ‘Why not drop into my hotel later, spot of dinner... ‘bout nine?’

Ming inclined her head slightly to show her acceptance, then gave her full attention to her countrymen. The deal was an excellent one. They were very interested in Ming’s company, interested enough to want to buy into it as part of the deal. They questioned her closely on Edward Barkley’s association with her business, hinting that if he agreed to sell them his shares, they could guarantee that shops for her fabrics would open in Japan. As their discussions continued, it became increasingly clear that the deal would only go through if there were no third party involved.

Ming knew that her long wait was to come to an end, now, tonight. During dinner with Edward Barkley tonight she would make her move, and be free of him for good.

Edward had not even changed. He was sprawled on his bed watching cartoons on television when Ming entered. He smiled and patted the bed for her to sit beside him. She hesitated, then sat in a chair.

‘I thought we could have room service, or would you prefer to eat out? How did it go? Did you finalize the deal?’

Ming smiled, then cocked her head to one side. ‘I’m not hungry, Mr Stubbs. I’ve come here to discuss business, nothing more.’

She noted the slight twitch, but he gave her no other sign that her use of the name ‘Stubbs’ had affected him. He switched off the television, and Ming opened her briefcase, tossed him the morning newspaper. ‘Alex is really doing well, his stepdaughter, too, marrying a baronet... they entertain royalty, according to that article.’

Edward picked up the paper and began to laugh. The world was so small — Lord Henry Blackwell, Allard’s boyfriend, no less. Ming was taken off guard when he chuckled. Then his manner changed and he tossed the paper aside. He stared at her, his face hard, his eyes expressionless. ‘What’s with the “Stubbs”? What’s going on in that conniving little head, Miss Takeda?’

Ming folded her hands, licked her lips, and spoke very quietly, but clearly. ‘I know all about you, Edward, just as I know all about Alex. I am prepared to forget what I know in return for your twenty-five per cent share of my company.’

She waited, watching him as he stared at her, but he remained silent. She continued, ‘I know, Edward, and I am sure Alex would not want it divulged to the English press, that he was convicted of murder. He served a sentence, didn’t he? But he served it for you... I think it would make fascinating reading, and I could make a considerable amount of money selling the story to one of your more dubious newspapers...’

Taking out a cigarette, Edward tapped it on the bedside table, then searched his jeans for his gold lighter. ‘So they want me out, do they? Only to be expected, they’re a devious bunch, the Japs... Well, I suggest you go ahead — and shut the door when you leave, sweetheart.’

Ming sat for a moment longer, then rose to her feet, straightened her skirt, and walked to the door. ‘Very well, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘I hear you... You don’t have time for a quick massage before you go, do you? I like the girls naked, sitting astride, you know? But I’m sure I don’t have to teach you the business, do I? I’ll pay you extra if you toss me off.’

Ming’s hand tightened on the door knob. She knew she had lost this round, he had beaten her at her own game. She looked back at him; if she hated him before, now she wanted him dead. ‘Goodnight, Mr Barkley.’

‘Oh, Ming, don’t try to undercut me, it’s a waste of time, you ungrateful little bitch. Try anything and I warn you, I’ll take you down with me... Now go back to the Japs and say I want in, or there’s no deal.’

Ming closed the door silently. She knew she could not win with Edward, perhaps she could stand a better chance with Alex. In the meantime she would play the Japanese company along, saying the Barkley shares were being bought out.

Alex Barkley had made it, and he revelled in it. He was happier than he had been in his whole life, with his beautiful wife at his side, two well-connected sons-in-law, and a three-quarter share in a private bank. His own income was staggering, and combined with that of his wife he deserved the title of ‘tycoon’ the newspapers had given him. He was proud of his achievements, his home and his business. Princess Margaret was a regular guest. Mr and Mrs Barkley had become an ‘A list’ couple. There were still some slight hitches with the Buchanan takeover, but nothing that alarmed Alex, only Edward could do that.

Edward’s increasingly erratic behaviour was not confined to the office. The manor became an open house to dropouts, welcomed by Harriet, who always surrounded herself with groups of actors and musicians. Edward took little interest, his main occupation of late was his night club. He still managed to hold the reins of Banks, being the ninety per cent shareholder, and he was adamant that he would not lose one of his lucrative assets. They were beneficial to him, not just financially.

Edward tried every ‘hit’ he had used in the past, but to no avail. Clubs were being closed down all over London, and the exclusive Banks became a government priority when it was noted that Edward had returned to London with the notorious George Raft. Mr Raft, it appeared, had Mafia connections. Edward flaunted Raft at the club — flashbulbs popped as he sat, cigar clenched in his teeth, with his arm around his new friend’s shoulders. Next day, the photograph accompanied the headline ‘Tycoon’s brother involved with Mafia.’

Alex drove to Edward’s house. He was trying to control his anger. Dewint was pushed out of the way as Alex passed him. ‘Edward! Edwaaaard!’

Edward appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Hi, man, something up?’

‘Don’t you play silly buggers with me, Edward. What the hell do you think you’re doing? You seen the papers?’

‘No — in them, am I? Well, that makes a change — I mean, you’re the Barkley Company, according to the press. Tycoon’s brother, what?’

Dewint heard them quarrelling at the tops of their voices. He turned away a car-load of guests, and still the brothers argued.

‘The Home Office is going to bar George Raft from re-entering the country, why in God’s name didn’t you tell me he had a share in the club, why? And why, for Chrissake, are you getting mixed up with these guys? You don’t need them, you don’t even need the club. Just as we are doing so well, the last thing I want is the company name besmirched with this kind of press...’

Edward looked at Alex, his face a mask, and when he spoke his voice was so calm that it sent chills through Alex. ‘How about headlines like “Barkley tycoon uncovered — ex-con Alex Stubbs”? You stupid bastard, you know Ming threatened to sell our story? You with all your fucking press agents, your social-climbing wife — well let me tell you, your bloody high-powered friends would drop you like dog shit...’